


The Icon of War and The Master of War

by GideonGave



Series: Requested League of Legends one-shots [4]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2187468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GideonGave/pseuds/GideonGave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous request for Aatrox/Pantheon smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Icon of War and The Master of War

The dust kicked up around them when once the warriors plummeted to the ground. Pantheon let out a grunt as he hit the back of his head, helmet nearly falling off. The Darkin’s wings above him consumed him in shadow, but the red glow of his blade that he’d shoved into the dirt kept it illuminated between them. Pantheon could feel the heat radiating off of it as he looked up at Aatrox. 

They were both wounded and panting - Pantheon could feel blood dripping down his leg, and he could see drops falling from the creature above him and spattering about the dirt. There was something odd about seeing a Darkin bleed and pant - he realized that these beings his people had worshiped were closer to humans than gods than they had thought. He would still not compare himself to them, however. It felt blasphemous. 

The Rakkor warrior forced himself not to flinch as Aatrox’s free hand touched his helmet, pulling it off the rest of the way to reveal his face. Reddish-brown eyes and dark hair were revealed to the Darkin’s glowing red vision, a scowl on Pantheon’s face. Aatrox’s lips came closer together as he caught his breath, and his eyes seemed to study the man below him. The warrior shifted, glancing over to his spear that had tumbled a couple feet away. If he made a lunge for it…

It was as if Aatrox had read his mind, and just as his arm reached out, the Darkin’s free hand was upon his wrist, pinning it to the ground. Pantheon’s eyes trained on it, being able to take note of the strange white veins that illuminated the red surface of his skin.

"I believe that’s enough," the creature’s voice rumbled, but despite his words, he made no move to get up. The Rakkor warrior was pinned beneath him, the Darkin’s knees on either side of one of his thighs and his one arm held hostage. As for his free arm, if he moved it much, it would surely scrape against Aatrox’s blade that pulsed beside him. 

The warrior let out a breath. “Then allow me to rise,” he argued with a short glare.

To his surprise, Aatrox smirked. What an odd expression to see on the other Champion’s face. He was much more used to seeing a scowl. 

"The fight is not over yet, Pantheon," Aatrox informed him, and his gauntleted hand strayed from the hilt of his blade to instead favor the collar of the Rakkor’s armor. "Merely the use of our weapons."

The warrior squinted at him, bemused by the Darkin’s words. Then Aatrox shifted, and there was something hot against his straddled thigh… He didn’t have to look down to know what it was, but if an overwhelming curiosity didn’t take over him… He resisted it. It almost felt disrespectful to blatantly look - he had too much respect for the Darkin, bred into him by the Rakkor’s beliefs. He kept his eyes trained on the other’s face. 

"The emotions and ferocity of battle fuel me, Pantheon," Aatrox spoke, his gauntleted hand tugging at the clasp that held the Rakkor’s cape on. The cloth was removed without opposition. "And you are such a plentiful source…"

A talon ran down Pantheon’s side, slicing open the straps that held his breast plate on. The tip of Aatrox’s claw just barely scraped against his skin, and his muscles tensed at the slight pain, a short gasp coming from him. The armor was removed, and he lifted his back just a bit for it to be pulled out from under him. It clanged off to the side by his spear. 

The hand that had pinned Pantheon’s wrist lifted to instead run over his muscled torso. His eyes watched the oddly colored fingers trace over muscles and scars, passing over one fresh wound on his side. It was then that he glanced past it to see exactly what had brushed up against his thigh - a darker red than most of the Darkin, and he could barely see the odd ridges upon its sides from the angle he looked down at it. 

Pantheon’s now freed hand wrapped around Aatrox’s wrist, and he met the Darkin’s gaze momentarily. The creature’s expression showed a smug kind of intrigue, and his brow ridge rose when Pantheon’s hand traveled up his arm. The Rakkor sat up, his eye level coming even with the creature’s collarbone. His hand came to run over an exposed pectoral muscle, feeling just hot much hotter the Darkin’s flesh was as he trailed down the muscles of his torso…

Fingers traced over oddly angled hip bones, and he hesitated just before that odd organ that barely brushed against his thigh. He looked up at Aatrox’s face again, and this time lips descended on his own. It was an odd kind of kiss, with just how much bigger the Darkin was, how much bigger even his mouth was. Sharp teeth broke skin, and Pantheon couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up from his throat.

His hand wrapped around Aatrox, unable to make his fingers come full circle around his cock. He could feel the smooth ridges now, as he stroked downward, feeling his member pulse against his palm. Aatrox let out a grunt, shifting himself forward to allow the Rakkor easier access. Patheon, too, moved forward, leaving Aatrox’s lips to instead focus on the task at hand. His forehead rested at the Darkin’s collarbone. 

The Darkin’s wings shifted as he was stroked in full, from base to tip and back again. His oddly colored hand ran through Pantheon’s short hair before it trailed down his back, freely allowing his talons to leave shallow scratches in the muscled surface. Pantheon shuddered, the pace of his hand quickening in that moment, grip tightening. Aatrox moaned.

Two clawed hands rested on the Rakkor’s back, scraping lines upward as Aatrox shifted his limbs, beginning to lean back as he urged Pantheon forward. The warrior understood, and as their bodies moved in opposite directions, his lips trailed down the Darkin’s chest - teeth sunk into his pectoral muscle briefly before his lips slid down and over his ribs, soon enough meeting his abdominals and pressing over each edge of every muscle. He worshiped with his mouth. 

A bloodied hand buried in his hair when the tip of the Darkin’s cock touched his chin. Brown eyes looked down at the organ. Surely he couldn’t fit it in his mouth, but… He took a breath before his bleeding lips wrapped around the tip, his tongue flicking against the slit. He heard Aatrox gasp above him. 

Both of his hands worked at the base, massaging the heated flesh as his lips and tongue traveled over the side of the head, paying special attention to the short, surprisingly flexible ‘spikes’ that ran off of it. He sucked on them experimentally, and he was rewarded with a low moan and talons digging into his shoulder. He let out his own moan against the flesh in his mouth. 

Grunts and moans continued to spill from them an Pantheon continued to explore the cock in his hands. The claws at his back and shoulders only urged him on as he dared to scrape his teeth against the sensitive flesh, and the organ pulsed against his lips. His hands stroked the base, progressively picking up speed as Aatrox’s moans picked up in volume. His mouth returned to the tip to suck and lap at it - he found a salty taste there, a sign that he was doing everything right. Greedily did he seek out more, tongue digging into the slit.

Before he knew it, his mouth was overflowing with spurts of the Darkin’s release, coating his tongue and teeth and lips in a bitter yet metallic tasting liquid. It thickly seeped from the corners of his mouth as he refrained from swallowing it. A hand in his hair held him against the pulsing organ throughout Aatrox’s orgasm, the creature’s moans making his own hard member twitch beneath the leather armor at his hips.

And once the liquid had stopped flowing, he was pulled from Aatrox’s cock to have his mouth instead be invaded by a thick tongue, and he welcomed it with his own tongue. The Darkin shoved him to the ground, the open wounds of his back stinging against the dirt, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, especially when a warm hand wrapped around his own member. He sighed into the mouth that kissed him. 

Aatrox’s stokes were quick and rough - exactly what he wanted. Pantheon’s hips bucked up into the motion, desperate for release. It came quicker than he expected, and soon enough he was moaning into the Darkin’s mouth, teeth biting onto a bottom lip as white coated the hand wrapped around his cock and stained the dyed leather of his armor. His muscles tensed and relax with each of the last stroked Aatrox gave to him, milking him of every last drop.

They continued to kiss even as Aatrox’s hand left his spent cock, teeth and tongue battling in the last moments of their desperation, and only when the need for air became too great did the two warriors part.


End file.
